


good vibrations.

by incalyscent



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Begging, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Dry Humping, Edgeplay, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Lowercase, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Pegging, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Vibrators, Wing Kink, a vague reference to a choking kink, fingering of a few varieties, like 5 seconds of top!lucifer, local ace does porn, local poet does prose, lucifer morningstar's oral fixation, no beta we die like men, oh my god. holy shit. motherfuck, sabe don't look, strapon blowjob, though like significantly less than is usual from me sorry, we use real lube this time like adults, which goes both ways this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:22:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27154448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incalyscent/pseuds/incalyscent
Summary: “you know the age old practice of wearing a vibrator to dinner?”there’s a beat.  “lucifer -”“i knowyouwouldn’t,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  chloe doesn’t have enough time to be offended before he lowers his voice and says “butiwould.”
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 57
Kudos: 284





	good vibrations.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [venividivictorious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/venividivictorious/gifts).



“i was thinking we could try something this evening.”

that’s always promising. chloe looks up. lucifer is perched on the edge of her desk, a little mischief in his eyes. she leans back in her chair.

“go on.”

he glances around quickly before leaning down; chloe can’t help herself and slips a hand inside his jacket.

“you know the age old practice of wearing a vibrator to dinner?”

there’s a beat. “lucifer -”

“i know _you_ wouldn’t,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. chloe doesn’t have enough time to be offended before he lowers his voice and says “but _i_ would.”

there’s another pause in which chloe looks up to find heat in his gaze, his whole body curled towards her. want throbs in her belly and in her heart, and she slides a hand over his ribs just so he can shiver.

“alright,” she says, slow, voice crawling, “you’ve convinced me.”

he grins. “excellent.”

-

he picks her up from the precinct after she’s finished her filing, bearing a change of clothes and a small, flat rectangle of a remote that chloe knows well. a few speeds and multiple settings; the toy lucifer is currently _wearing_ has been their bedfellow many times.

she flushes hot, takes it and her new clothes to the bathroom to change, and ignores the smug look on lucifer’s face.

he’s brought her a rather tasteful blue dress from her closet, and a decidedly _untasteful_ set of lingerie she’s never seen before, which she stuffs back into the bag in which it came.

she stares at the remote in her hand, before she furiously clicks the intensity up, unsure of the range on the thing. she gets her answer in a muffled, hoarse yelp from the next room over. she shuts it off.

“sorry, the uh, doorknob shocked me,” she hears lucifer say, “bloody - static electricity.”

chloe snorts. she tucks the remote into her pocket (because a dress is only good if it has pockets) and strolls out of the bathroom as casually as possible. lucifer is outside looking incredulous, even if his mouth curls upon seeing her. he holds out his arm, and she takes it before he leans in close.

“was that a lie?”

he scoffs. “an omission. i got zapped when i grabbed the thing to keep from _keeling over_.”

chloe grins sweetly up at him, and he rolls his eyes before he leans in to peck her on the lips.

“i can’t tell if you liked or disliked your gift.” his voice is low. chloe slips the bag back into his hand.

“i’m not wearing them.”

“damn,” he says, “worth a shot.”

“if you like them so much why don’t _you_ wear them?”

“isn’t that an idea,” he purrs, and chloe scrunches her face up and gives him a shove as soon as they reach the top of the precinct stairs. she can’t say she is opposed to the idea, so she doesn’t say anything at all, and that’s enough answer for him all the same. 

he drives, the corvette humming happily through the traffic, even if lucifer grumbles and gripes about it the entire time. chloe catches him shifting in his seat a bit conspicuously a few times, but chooses to pretend to ignore it, running her thumb over the buttons of the remote in her pocket, just to get a feel for them.

the restaurant isn’t as fancy as he would have liked, probably, but nice all the same. and he is slick and confident as he goes up to give the front desk his name for the reservation. so chloe turns the vibe on, just its lowest setting, and his voice breaks on the first syllable of _morningstar_. he clears his throat and throws his most charming smile at the hostess, even though the line of his shoulders bleeds into something a little boneless, something chloe is intimately familiar with.

“i’m beginning to think this was a horrible mistake,” he says, once the hostess is far ahead of them. chloe grins up at him.

“wanna back out?”

his eyes glint. a challenge. “not in your dreams.”

“oh, you wouldn’t in my dreams.”

he blinks, and there’s a flash of burning heat in his eyes before he swallows.

she lets him stew in it for a little bit; that barely there vibration. he’s able to order wine without much trouble, but after a few minutes even that miniscule stimulation is starting to wear on him. his eyes are bright and there’s a delicate reddish hue to his cheekbones, the barest hint of his collarbones dusted pink. his words stumble a bit.

still, he’s cocky.

“is that the best you can do?”

chloe feels around on the remote. she switches the setting to a slow, rolling pulse, one she knows all too well, and watches it ripple through his body; the line of his shoulders and the flutter of his eyelashes. his throat bobs, swallowing the noises down.

“i bet you won’t make it to the main course.”

“is that a proper wager, detective?”

she pushes down the hot spike of arousal at how low and rough his voice is already. she smiles at him instead.

“don’t make bets you can’t win.”

he laughs low, his eyes burning hot with desire. he barely notices the waitress return, so chloe orders for him. 

“sir?” she asks him, gaining the attention of his bleary eyes. “are you alright?”

“i’m _excellent_ darling,” he says, grinning. chloe snorts into her wine glass. the waitress’ smile is awkward before she leaves.

“is there a setting on this thing that can make you be quiet? it’d probably be for the best.” 

“if there is -” he smothers a gasp when chloe abruptly increases the intensity - “i haven’t found it yet.”

“hm.” she’s honestly distracted by watching him, watching every switch in setting change his body language. the strongest, more unrelenting setting makes his spine straighten and his wrists press to the table top, jaw clenching. shorter pulses make him _squirm_ , knuckle bitten between his teeth.

still, his favorite seems to be that slow, strong pulse, so she switches to that setting and lets him stew in it, watching intently as his throat bobs and his breath comes faster, his subtle rolling of his hips to grind back against the sensation.

it’s not enough. she knows it’s not enough. he’s grinding his teeth, hair gone curly from the sweat, and his eyes are dark and pleading when they flick up to meet hers.

“how’re you doing?” she asks, doing nothing to keep the cheek from her voice.

“currently focusing on keeping my wings away so as to not let this whole restaurant go blind and feral with the knowledge of divinity.”

“sounds tough.”

“i never _pegged_ you as a heretic, detective.”

he just about leaps out of his seat when she jams her thumb into the clicker a few times. she hears his first noise; a helpless, whimpered _fuck_. her next breath catches. she stops toying with him, letting him ride it out, just how he wants it, until the line of his shoulders tremble and his fingers curl against the table, white-knuckled.

“ _please_ ,” he says, voice hushed, “or i _will_ come in approximately a minute.”

chloe shrugs a shoulder. “no, you won’t.”

“oh?” his voice is breathy and rough. “and why’s that?”

“‘cause i don’t want you to yet.”

he strangles a noise, but she hears it, her ears keen on it over the bustle of the restaurant. “ _chloe_.”

she relents, turning the setting back down _slowly_ , and she knows she’s left him right on the edge by the flush melting down his throat and the way his breath comes stilted between his teeth.

“i’ll tell you what,” chloe says smoothly, and lucifer’s head comes up so fast she’s worried about whiplash for a moment, “if you can make it back to the penthouse, _maybe_ i’ll fuck you.”

“ _yes_ ,” he breathes, “ _please_.”

the waitress chooses then to reappear, and lucifer turns his face to the wall, one hand sliding conspicuously underneath the table. chloe can clearly imagine him pressing the heel of his hand to his cock under the table, outlined in the silhouette of his shoulder.

chloe smiles up at the waitress, who is eyeing lucifer with concern. “we’ll actually get that boxed up, thanks.”

there’s a brief flat expression on the waitress’ face before she breaks into a sunny smile. “sure.”

chloe watches her walk away. “we pissed off the wait staff.”

lucifer makes a noise with an emotion chloe can’t quite place. when she looks back at him, his eyes are wide, vulnerable and ravenous, and she smiles again, a little more wolf.

“wanna get out of here?”

“i thought you’d _never_ ask,” he says, already scrambling out of his seat. he adjusts his jacket to hide his _precarious_ situation, and chloe does her best not to laugh at him as he fishes _far_ too much money out of his wallet to slap down on the table, rickety on his legs like a newborn foal.

“don’t fall down,” she says, right before she clicks to a more intense setting just to hear the stilted noise he makes and watch his knees go weak, leaning onto the table for a few beats longer than he needed to.

“why did i think this was a good idea?”

chloe takes his arm when he offers it. “because you can only think with one head at a time?”

“touché.”

he would have dragged her if she wasn’t equally as eager to leave. they definitely stride right past that poor waitress as she came back with their boxed food, and she doesn’t say anything. at least she got a good tip.

“thank you!” chloe calls over her shoulder, which, for some reason, sends lucifer into a fit of borderline hysterical snickers, which chloe follows as they walk through the doors.

he gets her up against the hood of the corvette as soon as he’s able, mouth on hers, hands squeezing her ass right before it’s pressed to the metal. and she kisses him back exactly like she wanted to that whole time inside, with teeth and tongue, her hands on his jaw. the instant he moans into her mouth is the same one in which the corvette roars to life underneath her, making him break away and scaring her well enough she nearly leaps into his arms.

“sorry,” he breathes, his eyes focused on the car, even though his hands stroke soothingly down the center of her back. chloe checks over her shoulder, only to see the car purring happily away in her parking spot.

“we didn’t think this through, huh?”

“afraid not.”

chloe snorts, leans into him, breathing in the smell of him while she nuzzles into his neck. “c’mon, get us home safe.”

“you want me to _drive_?” his voice sounds a little weak.

“of course. i know you can do it.”

lucifer swallows, slow and thick, before he nods, giving her one more kiss before he pulls away and climbs into the driver's seat.

“the _traffic_ ,” he whines softly, even as he puts the car in gear.

“don’t kill us,” chloe says, and it crops up a pout on his face, even if it’s tinged with amusement, a little strung out along the edges.

in his defence he only weaves dangerously through cars a few times, only honks a split second after the light changes once or twice. chloe’s left the vibrator at a low setting and it’s clearly driving him mad, but he does so well not killing both of them in a catastrophic car accident well enough.

they’re sitting at a red light when she turns her head to look at him; it’s light in the dark casts hard, bloody shadows across his profile. like this, his eyes almost look red again. his shoulders are tight, fingers drumming on the leatherbound wheel; he needs both his feet to drive or she’s sure one would be bouncing. his brows are drawn, his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, and chloe reaches to place one hand on his leg, to steady or shake him, she’s not even sure.

of course, she does it right as the light changes, and the corvette stalls and rolls pathetically into the intersection while lucifer’s mind is rather clearly somewhere else entirely.

“babe,” chloe says, right before someone honks.

“right, sorry,” he says, sounding hoarse and distracted, but he still manages to throw the car in neutral before stomping on the clutch and squealing away. chloe laughs as she smells rubber.

the valet takes the car; it’s not even that late but lux is bustling when lucifer drags chloe inside and kisses her senseless against the nearest wall. his mouth is fire but his hands gentle where they hold the base of her skull, and she melts into him. she can’t hear her moan but he must feel it over the intoxicating thump of the music, because he sucks her lower lip before pulling away, eyes dark and wanting.

they weave through the crowd, lucifer brushing off more than one attempt at conversation, his eyes locked on chloe instead, drinking in her every move. once in the elevator, the doors barely have time to close before he whirls on her and he is on her and _everywhere_ , pressing her back against the wall. one hand stops her head from hitting the wall, the other finds the edge of her dress and slips slowly underneath it. now, away from the music, she can hear the high, needy, desperate noise he’s making against her neck, and she grabs a handful of his hair and drags him in for a kiss, and he makes it hot and open mouthed instantly, his tongue curling behind her teeth.

her other hand slides down his back to squeeze his ass and his wings crack into view, flooding the elevator with white light and the smell of splitting sky. there’s not enough room for them, not by a longshot, but he presses their wrists to the wall at either side of chloe’s head, sizzling with static, making the hairs on her arms stand on end and vibrating the air with pleasure. boxed in by them she should feel pinned, but she doesn’t.

he moans low and animal feral when she rakes her fingers through the feathers close to his back, and ruts helplessly against the curve of her hip. they’re both breathing hard, and eventually lucifer breaks the kiss to worry a mark into the bend of her neck, making her tip her head back.

“lucifer,” she breathes, and he rumbles low in response. he licks up the column of her throat, sucks her lower lip back into his mouth, and chloe chooses then to shift her hand just a little bit to feel the flared end of the toy inside him through his slacks.

“ _chloe_ ,” he whines, right into her mouth, and she grins.

“turn it up,” she whispers against his jaw, “my hands are full.”

he huffs a breathless laugh, moving his fingers from where they were dangerously close to the edge of chloe's underwear. he finds her pocket from the inside - unwilling to remove his hand from under her dress - and grips the remote. chloe turns her attention to a sweet spot under his ear, setting her teeth to his neck.

she hears the distinct, muted click of a button, and he gasps, moans in that same self serving way he does when he masterbates for her, grinding hard and slow against her hip.

"you been like this the whole time?" chloe can feel he's changed the setting back to that strong, slow pulse, and he's grinding his cock against her in that same rhythm. he pants a broken noise, and nips the skin over her collarbone in retaliation.

"i _thought_ it would be _fine_ ," he says, sounding ragged, "but you are _relentless_."

chloe hums, tipping her head back against the wall, and pushes the toy just a fraction of an inch into him. he muffles a cry against her skin; she hears two more clicks before he bucks and shudders against her, his wings scrabbling against the wall, his knees going weak. he has to press his hand to her hip, palm on the sharp bone, in order to keep himself from squashing her.

there’s a moment filled with nothing but their breathing and the dull, muted noise of the vibrator.

"did you just come?"

lucifer pants half a laugh, low and delirious against the side of her neck. "yep."

she bites on a laugh so it comes out a snort, and he leans back to press his forehead to hers even though his legs are precariously shaking.

"now _please_ turn that _infernal_ thing off before i actually cry."

"right. sorry."

she reaches into her pocket to switch off the toy, and the noise he makes is one of half relief and half dismay. he takes a while to catch his breath, his wings trembling the light, his mouth lazily wandering the sides of her neck while she pets up his back and through his hair.

chloe realizes then that the door to the elevator is open, the penthouse stretched out to her right. “looks like you made it home,” she says, low. he hums, and she can feel his grin against her skin.

“looking forward to that reward you promised -” his hand wanders back along the waistband of chloe’s underwear, and a noise sticks in her throat, coming out thin and reedy - “but first…” 

arousal is a stoked fire of coals in her gut, something kept smouldering since the restaurant, but the first stroke of his fingers even through the fabric ignites it.

“please,” she rasps, and his answering chuckle is low and sticky sweet.

“you don’t need to ask twice.”

he pulls her underwear to the side, slowly, so torturous combined with his mouth under her jaw by the time he uses his thumb to circle her clit she’s more than ripe for it; she stutters a moan and bucks her hips.

“lucifer,” she growls, and he huffs, cheeky amusement in that air, and kisses her right as he slips a finger into her, making her gasp. he flicks his tongue into her mouth and offers the heel of his hand to grind against, and she takes it, rolling her hips.

“that’s it, love,” he murmurs against her lips. his other hand slides along her thigh, encouraging it up over his hip, and she claws her fingers across the breadth of his shoulders. his wings lift, arch, filling the space with trembling feathers and the smell of salt. he slips a second finger next to the first and chloe groans, grinding desperately into the meat of his hand, until he crooks his fingers _just_ right and she cries out to the ceiling.

“are you going to come for me, darling?” he breathes, sounding exhilarated, in awe, and she nods before burying her face in his shoulder and whimpering. “such a good girl,” he purrs, and chloe stumbles right over the edge at his words, panting harshly into his ear, her knees going weak enough she clings onto him.

he groans, fucking his fingers into her until she squirms. he takes his hand away, leaving chloe with that strange feeling of emptiness, which she forgets about when he leans back and promptly sucks the fingers that were inside her into his mouth and he _moans_ like it’s the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.

“ _fuck_ ,” she hisses, and he grins, eyebrows lifting.

“quite.”

she bats at him and he chuckles. she leans heavily against the wall, taking him in, the way his hair is mussed and a few buttons askew just from humping like teenagers in the elevator. there’s a freckle on his throat that she just has to kiss, so she does, feeling his warm, happy noise rumble through her lips.

“can we get out of the elevator now,” he says, mirth on his voice. he twitches his wings once before they fold back away into nothing. chloe nods, with an added shrug.

“i guess,” she says, before she lets him drag her through the door.

it’s not as muggy with their breath, doesn’t smell so badly of sex - at least, not yet - and lucifer is looking at her like she’s the sun, that same wide eyed, almost disbelieving look he gets that makes her heart hurt just a little bit. so she stretches up and kisses him about halfway through the sitting room, and he sways into it. he circles her in his arms to pet across her hips.

“i’m sticky,” he says against her lips, and she snorts, leaning away and reaching up to coil a curl around her finger, grinning.

“take your clothes off, then,” she says, aiming for nonchalant, landing somewhere in the area of cheeky. he makes that particular low half laugh, dipping down to lay an open mouthed kiss to the side of her neck.

“as you wish.”

he tosses his suit jacket onto the couch, his eyes hot and never leaving chloe’s. he takes a few steps back, and it takes as long as her arms will allow to let go of him. he smiles, slow and curling like a snake, undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one using only one hand, practiced, exposing inch by delicious inch of starkissed skin. and chloe’s seen it before, of course she has, but she feels her mouth get dry as her eyes trace every fresh expanse of skin, her breath caught in her throat. it’s hard to swallow.

he undoes his cuffs - the shift of muscle in what she can see of his chest is intoxicating - before shrugging his shirt off, the slow roll of his shoulders, the slow reveal of his arms, draws her in once again.

the warm light of the bar matches the smooth cadence of his voice, whiskey orange but without its sting. it colours his skin honey gold, and he’s barely placed his shirt on the couch before she puts her hands on his chest, finding constellations old and new between his freckles before she replaces fingertips with lips, hears his shuddering sigh and feels his hands in her hair.

her fingers follow the line of his body, hook lightly into his belt, and she doesn’t miss the little noise he makes, or how she does his best to toe out of his shoes without moving away from her.

“can i?” she asks, a fingertip dipping below his waistband. he shivers, his tongue darting to wet his lips.

“please.”

she unbuckles his belt, and soon it joins the rest of his clothes. she pops the button on his slacks, before flattening her hand and smoothing it down the front of them, feeling the line of his half hard cock through the fabric. he makes a choked noise, his mouth going slack immediately.

“excited, are we?”

he laughs, airy and low, shimmying his hips as she draws down his zip. “want you to fuck me so badly, darling, it’s driving me mad.”

“well,” she says, breathless around the sudden heat flooding her belly, “let’s see what we can do about that.”

she doesn’t miss his grimace once his pants come off, probably stuck to them somewhat with drying come, which she knows isn’t exactly pleasant, but he kicks them away with a certain glee before he dives in to kiss her again.

she lets him delve into her mouth even as she walks him backwards with a hand on his chest - he only stumbles when she pinches his nipple, and she commends him for it. he’s forced to break away from her when he reaches the steps, and he clearly _hates_ it, so chloe takes them all in one step so she can set her mouth upon the sharp line of his collarbone, his fingers weaving into her hair.

he sits when he catches the edge of the bed, inviting her between his parted knees, and she goes to him, like she always has. something catches her eye, and she cranes her neck over his shoulder, even as his mouth drops to the soft flesh at the top of her breasts and he rumbles low and hot all the way through his chest.

the bedside table houses a bottle of water and another of lube; this is normal. what isn’t is her favorite strapless strapon sitting pretty in the middle of the bed.

“you were hopeful,” she says, her breath catching as his fingers deftly find the zipper on her dress.

“mm,” he says, distracted, drawing down the zipper slow. her heart rate rockets and she can see the edge of his smile when he tips his head to look up at her. she can’t help herself; she takes his face in her hands and strokes her thumbs under his eyes; scratches the pads of her fingers against his stubble. his eyes are dark and hungry but he still shuts them to place a kiss to her palm.

the zipper reaches its end and chloe lets the dress drop, kicks out of it and her shoes. lucifer’s gaze has lowered by the time she’s paying attention to him again, his tongue stuck in the corner of his mouth. he reaches out and she steps back into the bracket of his hands. he draws her in by the hips before his hands wander, one up her back to fiddle with her bra and the other smoothing over the curve of her ass.

her bra comes undone, and lucifer yanks it away like it’s offensive. her laugh gets mingled with a gasp when he cups her breast and sucks her nipple into his mouth, tongue worrying it in a circle. she puts her hands in his hair and tightens her fingers in it, and his answer is to moan low, pressing wet kisses across her chest just to run his tongue over the other nipple, his fingers hooking into her underwear and pulling them down inch by torturous inch.

she kicks those away, gasping when he uses his teeth to roll her nipple before he’s pulling off, turning his eyes up towards her. she crowds him until he uses his arms to pull himself closer to the center of the bed, and she follows, eyes locked on his, lost in them; she’d compare them to the reaches of space except they are nothing but warm and grounding.

he reaches for her and she catches his hands, straddling his hips slowly, pressing his hands to the sheets on either side of his head.

“stay,” she says. her voice is roughed out with desire, and she watches her tone shiver through his nerves. he nods, and when she takes her hands away and strokes them down his body, he doesn’t move.

she shifts back between his parted legs, looks him over, all freckled his skin and lean muscle. he lifts his head when she snorts.

“what?” he says, sounding thoroughly offended.

“you’re still wearing socks,” she says, grabbing one by the toe and pulling it off his foot.

“what, you don’t like the-” he pauses because he has to grin, stifle a laugh - “cameraphone porno twink look?”

“ _no_ ,” she laughs, and his answering chuckle is warm sunlight. she yanks off the other sock and sends it flying somewhere, and he wiggles his toes as she runs her hand up his shin, along his inner thigh. his breath catches, ends up coming out a happy, low noise when her fingers dance along the inside of his groin. he lifts his hips shamelessly as her hand dips down, over the end of the toy still inside of him.

the noise he makes when she eases it out of him she swears is better than anything else she can think of at the moment; his eyelashes flutter, his mouth red and wet, and he sounds like sin personified. she supposes he is.

the vibrator is gently curved, designed to press unerringly against his prostate, and she wonders briefly how he thought he could last a whole dinner wearing it. it doesn’t matter now. his eyes have gone back up to the ceiling, so he doesn’t notice her quickly clean it off with one of the wipes he always has on hand, turn it on to a low setting, and drop it onto his belly, right next to his cock. 

he gasps, yelps, bucks, and the vibrator rolls innocently onto the bed. he stares at her, looking equally scandalized as he does flushed.

“oops,” she says sweetly. 

he laughs, ragged. “minx.”

she hums, switching off the toy and exchanging it for the lube on the side table. he watches hungrily as she slicks up a couple of her fingers. she knows that she probably doesn’t need to prep him, considering he spent the whole night wearing a plug, but she _wants_ to. she knows he likes it, despite protesting it at the beginning of their relationship. no one had taken the time with him, it seems, because she didn’t even need to pull out any fancy tricks to make him come all over himself in barely no time flat. which is, once again, the plan.

she smoothes her other hand over his belly, mostly to feel his breathing. “ready?”

he shifts his hips, his breath already coming faster. “yes. please.”

“you always ask so nicely,” she says, and any answer he may have is swallowed by the groan he makes when she sinks a finger into him. she is leisurely where she thrusts it into him, until he starts panting and he melts against the mattress. she adds a second, and then curls them, dragging them against his prostate, and he makes a jagged noise, bucking like he doesn’t know if he wants to go towards or away from the feeling.

“ _sensitive_ , darling,” he gasps, his eyes glazed over, fingers twisting in the sheets where she’d left them.

“want me to stop?”

“don’t you _dare_.”

she breathes a laugh, and his face twists up in answer, right before his mouth drops open on a withering noise as she repeats the motion. his back arches, his muscles flexing under her hand, and chloe slides her hand up to rub her thumb over his nipple, making his jaw clench and a moan rattle out of his throat.

“chloe,” he says at the end of a breath, his eyes sightlessly staring up, muscles pulling tight as he coils his hands on the sheets. her name in his mouth makes arousal bank down her spine, making her work him faster, still so careful of him, unwilling to cause him any pain unless he explicitly asks for it.

she rubs against his prostate again and he yelps, but the best possible version of the sound - high and thick with pleasure. she can tell it’s _almost_ too much; every panting breath is punctuated with a whine, the roll of his hips jerky. chloe leans over and runs the flat of her tongue over his nipple, and he arches to push his chest closer to her mouth, grinding down on her fingers and then bucking up.

“fuck,” he says, sounding _wrecked_ , “oh _fuck_ , oh- _chloe_.”

“yeah, come on,” she says, setting her teeth to his skin. she’s barely got the words out before he’s slamming his eyes shut and coming untouched over his belly with a jagged, wounded sound, clenching around her fingers. chloe groans, watching his face as he comes down, fucking him gently through it with her fingers until he breaks her command to reach down and grab her wrist.

“that’s quite enough,” he manages, half laughing half still gasping for it, legs still twitching with his aftershocks. she stills, waits. he still squirms when she pulls her fingers out of him, garbling a mess of syllables in his throat.

she slides up his body, kissing his parted lips, and she’s surprised when he licks into her mouth despite being still so breathless. he lifts a hand to bracket her neck, thumb pressing lightly onto the mark he gave her in the elevator, and the dull pain of it makes her moan softly against his lips.

“i still want you to fuck me,” he murmurs, taking a second to nibble on chloe’s lower lip, “just give me a moment.”

she swallows. “alright.”

“no reason we can’t get you all warmed up, though, right?” his voice is low and sly. he refuses to take his eyes off of her, so he paws blindly for the strapon until his fingers circle it. he encourages her to straddle his lap up on her knees with gentle hands, and then sits up, mouth going to her neck like he can’t help himself, tongue darting to taste the salt on her skin, making her shiver.

the dildo makes its way down her body in a meandering pattern, until his fingers stroke over her clit, making her gasp. he dips a finger inside her and she whines, curling her hands over his shoulders. he rumbles, his breath skating across her skin, before he removes his finger and eases her end of the strapon inside of her, nestling the silicone grooves against her clit, the part inside her pressing against her sweet spot oh so deliciously.

“how’s that?”

“ _so_ good,” she says, and he huffs a delighted sound. his fingertips trace around the inner lips of her cunt, where the toy disappears, making her swallow down a whimper, before he leans back to take her all in, eyes wandering. heat throbs low in chloe’s belly, and when lucifer’s eyes come back up to meet hers she sees it reflected there, swirling galaxies of burning desire. he reaches, wraps his fingers around her cock, and when he strokes down it rubs firmly against her clit, and shifts enough inside her that static sings behind her eyelids.

“ _shit_ ,” she gasps. lucifer licks his lips, swallows, staring down at her cock.

“indeed,” he says, distracted, before he’s grabbing her hips, encouraging her to sit on the edge of the bed. he slips off, onto his knees on the floor. heat sinks low, from her chest, all the way into the pit of her stomach at the sight, and chloe swallows loud enough to be heard over her own heartbeat.

“please,” he whispers, taking a hold of her cock in one hand, tongue flicking against the side of it, “ _please_ , chloe.”

“yeah. yes,” she says, nodding.

he groans, wetting his lips before taking the head of her cock in his mouth, hollowing his cheeks, sucking nice and slow. he sinks down and the toy rocks inside her, rubbing against her clit, and she moans, low. the visual of it isn’t bad either, his pretty mouth red against the light blue of the dildo, his hair wild and curly. he’s sweat enough that her hands can pass through without the product getting in the way, so she coils her fingers in his hair.

he blinks up at her, heat and desire and _love_ in those black eyes, right before he winks and swallows her cock down, hand that was holding it steady splaying against her belly.

“oh,” she gasps, and she bucks her hips and he lets that cock slide down his throat. he moans when her hips drop back down, redoubling his effort. it feels _good_ , but it’s the sight, the knowledge that he gets off on it, that winds her back up. she tightens her hold in his hair and he stills, eyes flicking up to meet hers, bright with lust. he pulls off slowly, ending in a kiss at the tip.

“could you come like that?” his voice is raspy, and it crawls over chloe’s skin. she swallows, her mouth dry from her panting.

“i think so,” she says, “if you- down your throat-”

he puts an open mouthed kiss to the side of her cock, making the piece inside her shift, sparking up her nerves. “you want to fuck my throat, darling?” his eyes are glimmering, mischievous, but they blacken when she whines outright.

“ _yes_.”

he makes a tiny helpless noise in the back of his throat, eyes hot and locked on her face, before he dives back down to take her cock back into his mouth. instantly it curls the toy inside her _just_ right, and she grinds forward into the pressure on her clit, pushing her cock into lucifer’s mouth, and he _whines_ , swallowing her down, taking it with no protest.

she grabs at his hair, starting some sort of shaky rhythm, fucking herself with the end of the dildo inside her using the push and pull of his lips, the back of his throat. he was well trained well before she got to him, and he doesn’t gag, doesn’t splutter or choke, only breathes unsteadily through his nose and moans, whimpers, every time he has the space to do so.

it’s no surprise to her that she doesn’t last, orgasm building just from listening to him make those _noises_ , let alone the added stimulation of the toy. she comes with a cry, curled over his head, and his fingers claw down the outside of her thigh as she pushes deep into his throat.

when she finally gives him an inch, he pulls off and coughs just once before his breath comes, jagged. he leans his head against her thigh and stares up at her, eyes blown black. it’s only now that she notices his hand is between his legs, and she tips her head until he can see his fingers wrapped around his cock, the slow push pull of them as he strokes himself.

“oh, _lucifer_ ,” she says, her voice still fucked out. he groans, turning his mouth to lick at her inner thigh, tasting the salt and whatever slick had dripped there, making her nerves sing.

“fuck me,” he says, _begs_ , “fuck me _now_ . _please_.”

“yeah, uh huh, yep,” she says, and his laugh is breathless before he surges up to kiss her. she drags him further up the bed again before flipping him onto his back with a hand to his chest. she grabs a pillow and he obediently lifts his hips without her having to say anything.

“good boy,” she murmurs against his lips, and he huffs a short whine before tipping his head back, exposing the long line of his throat.

“ _detective._ ” 

chloe chuckles, breathless, before leaning over him to grab the lube. she pops the cap and slicks up her cock, not missing the way it was already wet with his spit. she swallows, biting her lip, eyes flicking up to see him watching her hand glide up and down her cock.

his legs fall open and he beckons her close with his eyes. she crawls over him, presses her mouth to his, feeling the rapid thump of his heart under her hands. she doesn’t waste that throat though, sucking a mark into the side of his neck as one of her hands slides down to line up her cock with his hole, not missing the flex of his fingers against her hips.

when she finally sinks into him, his jaw goes slack and he groans, eyelashes fluttering, his mouth curling into a satisfied smile.

“oh _yes_ ,” he breathes, pulling his knees up to bracket her hips as he moves his hands up her back. he cradles her face, tucking her hair over one shoulder neatly, before he pulls her down flush against him, trapping his cock between their bellies. 

she rocks her hips and they both gasp, the toy pushing into her as she thrusts. she leans back just enough that she can trace the red flush melting down his chest, see his eyes black like nighttime. she starts up a slow, rolling rhythm that seems to do as much for him as it does for her. he’s clearly still _so_ sensitive, because his legs twitch and his stomach flexes with every savory push of her cock into him.

she slides her hands up his chest, relishing in his gasp when she catches a nipple, her hands gently circling his throat. he messes up what he was going to say or moan with several different languages, but his throat bobs under her hands, wild excitement in his eyes. but that’s for another time, she thinks, even if the promise of it makes her pace stutter, pick up a little more unsteady, faster.

he whines out her name, and she ends up holding his face, cradling it like something precious. his eyes are burning when he turns his head and sucks her thumb into his mouth. she moans, strangled, as the flat of his tongue licks over the pad of her thumb.

she bucks, grinding hard into him, and it wrenches a noise from him, his eyes rolling back in his head, if only briefly.

“ _yes_ ,” he says, muffled by her fingers. he sinks his hands down to dig into the meat of her ass, encouraging.

“like that?” chloe pants, rolling her hips into him again. she mostly grinding her clit onto the toy as well, and there is a firepit in her belly. she knows he can tell, his half-lidded eyes stroking down her body.

“ _just_ like that,” he grits out. she is not in the position to deny him; it would be fun some other time, to tease him by not giving him what he wants, but she’s tied up in the desperation as well.

he presses a hand to her lower back, and she draws their bodies close again. his cock bumps her belly and he cries out, bucking up when she pulls out and down onto her cock when she thrusts into him.

a weak mewl of her name is all the warning she gets before his cock twitches against her stomach and he’s coming again, spilling pearly between them.

“fuck, that’s hot,” chloe says, her voice rough enough to rasp on him. he laughs, wrecked and ragged, trembling hard though his aftershocks. she starts to slow her pace.

“don’t stop,” he says, digging his fingers into her ass again, “don’t stop until you come, _please_.” 

chloe grits out a noise, already picking the pace back up. “won’t it be too much?”

“ _yes_ ,” he hisses, “and i’ll love every second of it.”

chloe makes a broken noise, runs her hands down his arms to gather his hands. she laces their fingers together and presses his hands firmly above his head and _fucks_ him. there isn’t much refinement to it, she’s just chasing the tight coil of orgasm as it twists tighter. he’s panting out wounded noises, trembling all over, but staying good and still for her to thrust into. his eyes are glazed over, dazed and starstruck, staring up at her like she’s the best thing to happen to him. she comes with his name in her throat like a prayer, squeezing his fingers, clenching desperately around the toy.

she slows, listening to him whimper, before she stops. their ragged breathing takes up the room, echoing off the walls. she lets go of his hands but they stay there, even as she rubs her fingers over the taught muscle in his arms.

he sucks in a breath and squirms when she pulls out of him, but he’s exhausted, so he doesn’t do much else except watch her.

he reaches for her, if only to help her take off her strapon. she grunts when he removes the bulb from inside her.

“sorry, darling,” he says, tossing the toy down the bed unceremoniously. she leans to get more wipes to clean him off, and his grip tightens on her waist. she looks back at him and he still has that dazed look, eyes wide, vulnerable.

“i’m not leaving,” she says softly, and he nods, tongue flicking over his reddened lips. 

she pulls the pillow out from under him, and wipes his cock clean of come. he groans, squirming, a chuckle locked behind his lungs.

she turns to discard the wipes, and when she turns back his wings are out, folded halfway, relaxed. she holds her hands out and he puts himself between them, and they collapse, tired, onto the mattress. she gathers him up, stroking along his spine, and he folds her into one of his wings, a cocoon of warmth and light.

“that has to be a special occasions kind of thing,” he says into her neck, still struggling slightly for breath, “because if it happens more than once a month it might kill me.”

chloe snorts, running her fingers through his sweat-damp hair. “yeah i wasn’t expecting to be so into it.”

he hums that half noise, hooking his heel around her calf. “you should have known, when it comes to me.”

“perhaps.”

he pulls back to kiss her, sweetly, gently, his hands on the sides of her face. “seriously though, don’t try to touch me for at least twenty-four hours or i might break.”

she barks a laugh, and she feels his smile curve against her lips. “uh, noted.”

she bumps into some feathers, and he jolts. “ _detective_.”

“sorry, sorry.”

he grumbles, but he’s too spent to do anything else. she can’t really tell who drifts off first, only that the cadence of his evening breath is better than any lullaby, and his wings more comforting than the softest blanket. 

**Author's Note:**

> i can explain. really
> 
> incalyscent-writes.tumblr.com


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